It was Dr. Grief! He had to let Wolf know.
He turned around.
Mrs. Stellenbosch was standing in front of him.
He had never seen her look less human. Her entire face was contorted with anger, her lips rolled outward, her eyes ablaze.
‚You didn’t die!' she exclaimed. ‚You’re still alive!' Her voice was almost a whine, as if somehow none of it had been fair. ‚You brought them here. You’ve ruined everything!'
‚That’s what I’m paid for,' Alex said.
‚What was it that made me look in here?' Mrs. Stellenbosch giggled to herself. Alex could almost see the sanity slipping out of her. ‚Well, at least this is one bit of business I’m finally going to be able to finish.'
Alex tensed himself, feet apart, gravity center low, just like he had been taught. But it was useless. Mrs. Stellenbosch lurched into him, moving with frightening speed. It was like being run over by a bus. Alex felt the full impact of her body weight, then cried out as two massive hands seized hold of him and threw him headfirst across the room. He crashed into a table, knocking it over, then rolled out of the way as Mrs. Stellenbosch followed up her first attack, lashing out with a kick that would have taken his head off his shoulders if it hadn’t missed by less than an inch.
He scrambled to his feet and stood there, panting for breath. For a moment his vision was blurred. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. Mrs. Stellenbosch charged again. Alex threw himself forward, using another of the tables for leverage. His feet swung around, scything through the air, both his heels catching her on the back of the head.
Anyone else would have been knocked out by the blow. But although Alex felt the jolt of it running all the way up his body, Mrs. Stellenbosch hardly faltered. As Alex left the table, her hands swung down, smashing through the thick wood. The table fell apart and she walked through it, grabbing him again, this time by the neck. Alex felt his feet leave the floor. With a grunt she hurled him against the wall. Alex yelled, wondering if his back had been broken. He slid to the floor. He couldn’t move.
Mrs. Stellenbosch stopped, breathing heavily. She glanced out the window. The helicopter’s blades were at full speed now. The helicopter rocked forward then slowly rose into the air. It was time to go.
She reached down and picked up her handbag. She took out a gun and aimed at Alex. Alex stared at her. There was nothing he could do.
Mrs. Stellenbosch smiled. ‚And this is what I am paid for,' she said.
The dining room door swung open.
‚Alex!' It was Wolf. He was holding a machine gun.
Mrs. Stellenbosch lifted the gun up and fired three shots. Each one of them hit its target.
Wolf was hit in the shoulder, the arm, and the chest. But even as he fell back, he opened fire himself. The heavy bullets slammed into Mrs. Stellenbosch. She was hurled backward into the window, which smashed behind her. With a scream she disappeared into the night and the snow, headfirst, her heavy, stockinged legs trailing behind.
The shock of what had happened gave Alex new strength. He got to his feet and ran over to Wolf. The SAS man wasn’t dead, but he was badly hurt, his breath rattling.
‚I’m okay,' he managed to say. ‚Came looking for you. Glad I found you.'
‚Wolf…'
‚Okay.' He tapped at his chest and Alex saw that he was wearing body armor under his jacket. There was blood coming from his arm, but the other two bullets hadn’t reached him.
‚Grief…' he said.
Wolf gestured, and Alex looked around. The helicopter had left its launchpad. It was flying low outside the academy. Alex saw Dr. Grief in the pilot’s seat. He had a gun. He fired. There was a yell, and a body fell from somewhere above. One of the SAS men.
Suddenly Alex was angry. Grief was a freak, a monster. He was responsible for all this—and he was going to get away. Not knowing what he was doing, he snatched up Wolf’s gun and ran through the broken window, past the dead body of Mrs. Stellenbosch and into the night. He tried to aim. The blades of the helicopter were whipping up the surface snow, blinding him, but he pointed the gun up and fired. Nothing happened. He pulled the trigger again. Still nothing.
Either Wolf had used all his ammunition or the gun had jammed.
Dr. Grief pulled at the controls and the helicopter banked away, following the slope of the mountain. It was too late. Nothing could stop him.
Unless …
Alex threw down the gun and ran forward. There was a snowmobile lying idle a few yards away, its engine still running. The man who had been riding it was lying facedown in the snow.
Alex leapt onto the seat and turned the throttle full on. The snowmobile roared away, skimming over the ice, following the path of the helicopter.
Dr. Grief saw him. The helicopter slowed and turned. Grief raised a hand, waving goodbye. Alex caught sight of the red glasses, the slender fingers raised in one last gesture of defiance. With his hands gripping the handlebars, Alex stood up on the foot grips, tensing himself for what he knew he had to do. The helicopter moved away again, gaining altitude. In front of Alex loomed the ski jump. He was traveling at seventy, eighty miles per hour, snow and wind rushing past him. Ahead of him there was a wooden barrier, shaped like a cross.
Alex smashed through it, then threw himself off.
The snowmobile plunged down, its engine screaming.
Alex rolled over and over in the snow, ice and wood splinters in his eyes and mouth. He managed to get to his knees.
The snowmobile reached the end of the ski jump.
Alex watched it rocket into the air, propelled by the huge metal slide.
In the helicopter, Dr. Grief just had time to see five hundred pounds of solid steel come hurtling toward him out of the night, its headlights blazing, its engine still screaming. His eyes, bright red, opened wide in shock. The makeshift torpedo hit its target full-on. Point-blank.
The explosion lit up the entire mountain. The helicopter disappeared in a huge fireball, then plunged down. it was still burning when it hit the ground.
Behind him, Alex became aware that the shooting had stopped. The battle was over. He walked slowly back to the academy, shivering suddenly in the cold night air. As he approached, a man appeared at the broken window and waved. It was Wolf, propping himself against the wall, but still very much alive. Alex went over to him.
‚What happened to Grief?' he asked.
‚It looks like I ‘sleighed’ him,' Alex replied.
On the slopes, the wreckage of the helicopter flickered and burned as the morning sun began to rise.
DEAD RINGER
« ^
A FEW DAYS LATER, ALEX found himself sitting opposite Alan Blunt in the faceless office on Liverpool Street, with Mrs. Jones twisting another peppermint between her fingers. It was May 1, a bank holiday in England, but somehow he knew that holidays never came to the building that called itself the Royal & General Bank. Even the spring seemed to have stopped at the window. Outside, the sun was shining. Inside, there were only shadows.
‚It seems that once again we owe you a debt of thanks,' Blunt was saying.
‚You don’t owe me anything,' Alex said.
Blunt looked genuinely puzzled. ‚You have quite possibly changed the future of this planet,' he said. ‚Of course, Grief’s plan was monstrous, crazy. But the fact remains that his…'